


ATROPHY

by PRllNCE



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Asphyxiation, Breathplay, Clothed Sex, Feathers & Featherplay, Gangbang, Multi, Public Humiliation, Restraints, Silence, Teasing, Tickling, Torture, Trains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 12:21:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5416871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PRllNCE/pseuds/PRllNCE
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Was it too conceited a thought to think that every passenger on this train was there just for him? It might have been a flattering thought to Adachi, had it not deprived him of whatever pride and sanity he'd mustered for the remainder of this very otherwordly yet sensational ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ATROPHY

**Author's Note:**

> Please take care when reading as this work can be triggering or a source of discomfort to some. Any noncon or implied noncon piece of mine is fictional play only, and I do not fetishize the practice itself or the trauma that follows. Safety first, you guys.

Who was in on this? How many? For what purpose? Was it some unavoidable beforehand plan? Or had his luck simply made a beeline for the exit, making all of this an unfortunate string of coincidences in which every participant's mind just... clicked in unison?

   Tohru Adachi's feet shuffled against the floor's gentle rumbling, his body swaying to the beat of the train car's motion. His breath hitched into a cough; a cluster of fingers--clearly more than two hands, he counted--began to creep beneath his shirt again, sweetly teasing his skin. They merely brushed against it, but Adachi tensed up considerably. Nails and fingertips of all shapes and sizes tapped and caressed wherever they could cause the slightest twitch. And each time they did, vicious smiles curled vicious lips. Adachi clicked his tongue at himself, having hoped that they would let him rest just a little longer. Even now, he somehow thought that he would never give them the satisfaction.

   "Oh, come on..." he mocked--or attempted to, but his quivering frame and wheezing breath betrayed him severely. "You haven't even scratched the surface yet. Are you gonna do your worst already, or do I have to start giving out pointers?"

   He was tired, so excruciatingly tired.

   _Please_ , he begged inwardly. _Make them stop_.

* * *

 

There was no way this should have happened. Even knowing firsthand how reality itself as society tells it is relative, this should not have happened.

   Was this some higher power's way of telling Adachi that he should never go back to the city? That he was stuck in jolly goddamn nowhere; that his sleep deprivation was put in place to order a rain check on driving the hell away from there? Or was that too conceited a thought?

   His only crime that day was boarding a train. That was all it took for everything to go wrong in the most bizarre way possible.

   Everything had been normal, normal, normal in a bone-numbingly boring manner until the doors closed him off from the rest of the world and the train was set in motion. Until its next destination, Adachi was to be alone with all the other passengers--as was normal. Perfectly normal.

   It started with one passenger. Adachi never did get a good look at their face as he was preoccupied with his phone; as soon as the car started moving, the previously full set of bars vanished like something had sucked the life out of it. The aggravated detective suppressed a grumble as he shoved the useless piece of technology into his suit pocket, just in time for a pair of strong hands to forcefully grab his arms.

   "Woah, what th... hey--"

   Alarmed, Adachi struggled against the brusque contact, feeling his arms stretching up as he fell, back first, into a fellow passenger's wide chest. There was no time to focus on the disgust now burning in his throat as more people started moving towards the restrained young detective with seemingly the same idea in mind. Adachi meant to speak, but his words were instead replaced by a pained grunt as his arms stretched further, bending backwards over his offender's shoulders and locking tightly into place by their hands, Adachi's wrists so small by comparison.

   By now, he was held so roughly that his arms barely moved no matter how desperately he fought.

   Another passenger got up from their seat. Then another. They were all watching him, some edging closer to restrain any limb that hadn't already been clutched. This pressing situation forced a confusing mixture of disgust, fear, and something else entirely into every part of Adachi's body. It surged through him like an internal alarm clock, pumping him with adrenaline, and even still he only portrayed indifference as one of his eyebrows shot up, painting his face unimpressed rather than distressed.

   "You guys are kind of crowding me here," he said, determined to at least give them a hard time for all their trouble. "Who put you up to this? I have to say, you gotta be pretty bored to go along with something like thi--!!"

   They all started at once.

   An involuntary gasp escaped Adachi midsentence, staggering into a high-pitched whine before exploding completely, effectively destroying his fabricated cool and pressing out a full-blown scream.

   Hands. Hands, hands, hands, hands. Wiggling fingers digging, running, climbing, all over his body. Even through the fabric of his suit jacket and dress shirt he could feel the alarming sensation of fingertips jabbing into his underarms and tapping all over his ribs like he was their humanoid instrument.

   _It tickles. It tickles, it tickles, it tickles!_

   It pissed him off, it confused him, it hurt him, but beyond all that it rendered him completely helpless as his lungs filled with gasps of laughter-entangled screams. He fought against the crowd in a weak attempt to free himself, but every movement meant another opening for another hand to touch him.

   "Whahat's... the meaning of...!" Adachi squeezed out, his voice cracking with high-pitched laughter. "S-stop t--! Stop tickling me, goddamn it, I don't underst--!"

   As he was blinking away an invasive tear from his eye, someone forced one of his shoes off with ease and Adachi's eyes widened ever so slightly. He hadn't thought he was this ticklish at all, but if there was one place he knew about to the point where it caused legitimate problems--how do you wash your feet if you can barely even touch them yourself, honestly--it was there.

   If he was determined to get out of this surreal mess before, it was nothing compared to this. In spite of his clear disadvantage, Adachi flailed, kicking harshly with his legs and praying almost religiously that he'd at least see a tooth or two flying. But he soon realized that the harder he struggled, the more brutal his punishment; the many hands that had been so viciously focused on his torso started unbuttoning his shirt and welcoming themselves inside, grabbing and prodding at any visible flesh they could reach. Every sweet spot was signalled by a shriek from the humiliated victim, and they all treated it like a free pass to never move away, to go faster, to more meticulously get at him.

   Adachi succumbed fast; his right leg was completely claimed. By now he couldn't make out a single face in the crowd through his tears, and his cheeks hurt too much from the incessant laughing to retort as much as he would've liked to. He couldn't tell who he needed to get rid of the most anymore, and as soon as those slender fingers lodged themselves between his toes, he succumbed even further.

   Appearances meant nothing.

   "Ohhh god, please, I'll do whatever you want me to do, just please... _please_ not there!" Adachi whimpered, trying to sound as annoyed as he wanted to be but only coming off as pathetic as he felt.

   There was a familiar sound as the doors to the connecting cars opened and more passengers started pouring in. For just one foolish moment, Adachi dared to hope. But the very instant he realized their intention, his toes were pulled back hard through his thin sock and the entirety of his right foot overpowered by quick, almost manic movement, as if these people had been desperate to tickle him there. Adachi's words got stuck in his throat and he coughed violently, whining loudly through his wheezing as the sock came off and brisk, wet tongues covered his naked sole.

   Adachi shook his head back and forth, over and over, attempting to hide his flushed face and embarrassing expression in his aching arms.

   "Pleeaase," he slurred pathetically. "No more! No more!!"

   The other shoe came off as if on cue, and the other passengers arrived right on time to brandish their squirming fingers and assault him.

   Every passing minute, he kept thinking it couldn't get worse. And every time the thought crossed his mind, it was like the universe had perceived it as a wish and fulfilled it.

   This time, the zipper on his trousers was slowly coming undone, and the sheer anticipation of what this meant caused Adachi to stop struggling for a second.

   "N... no, don't..."

   Why wouldn't they say something? All this time, they'd been doing nothing but tickle him with a disturbing smile on their faces, as if possessed. Why were they even doing this? What could they possibly gain from it? Did all of them just happen to want him to suffer?

   Someone reached through the opening in his trousers and pulled out his length for everyone to see, and the entire train car shook with laughter that wasn't his. Adachi grinded his teeth in spite of his position, crimson flooding his cheeks in shame without even knowing what they were laughing at.

   Then he knew.

   Once he opened his eyes to see, Adachi was overcome by mortification; he was hard, almost throbbing. They were all laughing because this position had him aroused.

   Before Adachi could even begin to surmise why or how it came to be like this, the tickling resumed--only now, there was an additional focus to his erogenous zones. From somewhere he had no way of guessing, the passengers hounding him had pulled out various tools which they were happily testing out wherever they could illicit any nice noises.

   Of course, at first Adachi refused to let anything of the sort slip; he wouldn't grant them that. But only seconds later, the feathers gently brushing against his aggravatingly erect nipples started speeding up and switching sides until the madness of the teasing squeezed out a cracked moan.

   It tickled, it tickled so much, it tickled to a maddening degree, but it felt... so...

   The car doors opened once more, but Adachi barely noticed. All he could feel was the sensation of fingertips climbing all over his convulsing waist, ribcage and armpits down to the back of his knees and his sensitive soles--along with the increasing pleasure of feathers and small paintbrushes gingerly tickling his nipples.

   But that wasn't enough. It still wasn't enough.

   As he rocked his hips with desperation and misplaced glee, he felt a hand keep his quivering erection still for the array of tools heading its way. Adachi didn't bother looking down; he knew the feeling of the feather as it started torturing his tip with small circular movements, and the brushes following along the length as if painting an intricate picture.

   "Ahh, d... don't... Th-that's too m-much..."

   Nobody ever said a word but him, but Adachi had a feeling they all listened; the next instant, someone pressed their palms against his mouth to shut him up, and he let out a soft, involuntary moan from the pressure. Just from this it was getting so much harder to breathe and Adachi could feel his mind swim.

   But he had forgotten again--it would always get worse.

   Someone saw the chance to pinch Adachi's nose, effectively shutting off his source of breathing. An even thicker pressure violated his senses and dulled his mind now. He blinked, feeling his eyes roll up.

   That's when they went all-out.

   Every finger, every hand, every tool moved faster and harder, roughly covering every part of his skin as powerful spasms shook his body from the lack of oxygen and need to scream and laugh and moan. This urged more busy hands to tease the life out of him; his nipples were pinched, the feathers still swapping and brushing against them with brutal precision, and his steadily growing erection toyed with and roughly jerked off at the same time.

   Adachi felt every part of his body convulse, from the very pores of his ticklish feet to his throbbing arousal and his shaking, restrained torso, every part of him desperate for air as everything tickled yet felt so intensely good.

   And then he felt it; he was seconds away from coming now. He was about to come from this outrageous situation, his mind racing as fast as the train itself as the intense scream started building in his burning throat. If they held him like this for much longer, Adachi knew he could just as easily pass out into their merciless arms before he'd get to come.

   _What's the recurring theme of this assault again_ , he absentmindedly thought.

   Oh, so it was. It only. Ever. Gets. Worse.

   The passengers, all of them silent as sin throughout this entire ordeal, all began snickering and talking with filthy, derogatory tones. It was a cacophony of humiliating remarks, cheers and screams from participant and onlooker alike, sending Adachi into a bizarre state of euphoria as he felt his entire mind cracking and creaking with desire both to breathe and come.

   And they knew. They always just somehow knew.

   The gateways opened as the incessant teasing of his arousal sped up and the hands covering his face let go. A hoarse, painful scream leaked out, staggering and staggering until he reached an aggressive climax, intensified greatly by the sweet, sweet air now entering his thirsty lungs. His body twitched weakly with the aftermath and he slumped over into the clutches of the train passengers. A smile was stuck to his face, fresh saliva sneaking down his chin from his exposed tongue.

   It must have been a pitiful sight at best... and it felt absolutely divine. It was simultaneously the best and worst thing Adachi had ever been through.

   And as he knew, there was no way they'd let him rest for long.

   Why?

   Because while this car still moved, it would only ever get worse... and nothing else.


End file.
